‘Man or woman?’ I asked.
‘Man.’
‘And I take it I have to see him?’
Jack nodded again.
‘OK,’ I said, picking up my T-shirt. ‘I’ll just put on . . .’
‘Don’t bother. You’re not going to the visitors’ hall. He’s coming to see you.’
‘Here?’
‘Yep!’
I put my T-shirt back on anyway. The prison cells were like ovens during the day and although we were meant to keep our clothes on, most of the guards turned a blind eye if we took off our shirts. I’d taken mine off when it’d started to stick to my sweaty body like clingfilm. Heels clicked along the corridor. A man’s heavy, determined footfall. And angry too by the sound of it. I stood up and waited. Then the man appeared before my cell bars. My mouth fell open. Kamal Hadley. He was the very last person I’d been expecting.
He entered my cell. Jack stood outside. Kamal wore a dark charcoal-grey suit and a royal-blue shirt with matching tie. His black shoes were so highly polished I could see the light strip above reflected in them.
‘You can leave us now,’ Kamal ordered, his eyes never leaving my face.
‘But . . .’ Jack began.
Kamal turned to him with a look that brooked no disagreement. Jack set off down the corridor. I considered knocking out Kamal and taking off down the corridor. But how far would I get? I considered knocking out Kamal just for the hell of it. It was definitely tempting.
‘I’m sure you can guess why I’m here,’ said Kamal.
I couldn’t actually, so I kept my mouth shut.
‘I’m here to offer you a deal,’ Kamal went on.
‘What kind of deal?’
‘If you do as I say, I’ll make sure you don’t hang. You’ll be sentenced to life imprisonment and I’ll make sure you serve no more than eight to ten years. You’ll come out of prison still a young man with your whole life ahead of you.’
I studied Kamal as he spoke. He hated being here, he despised having to ask me for anything and he was having trouble hiding just how much he loathed it. It made me smile inside. I had something he wanted very, very badly. But I had no idea what.
‘And what exactly do I have to do for this . . . largesse?’
‘I want you to state publicly that you kidnapped and . . . raped my daughter. I want you to freely admit to the crimes you’re charged with. No more denials.’
‘Why?’
At first I thought Kamal wasn’t going to answer. I waited. I had all the time in the world. I wasn’t going anywhere.
‘My daughter won’t be able to put this whole business behind her and get on with her life if you don’t,’ he said at last. ‘She feels she owes you something because you saved her life in the woods. If she knew you weren’t going to die, then she’d be only too willing to get rid of your child. A child she never wanted. A child she still doesn’t.’
Every word he spoke was well rehearsed and deliberately wielded to cause the maximum amount of pain. And it worked too. I half-sat, half-collapsed down onto my bed, looking up at him. My guts were being shredded and he knew it.
‘And she told you this, did she?’
‘Of course.’
I didn’t believe him. I almost didn’t believe him. He was lying. But suppose he wasn’t?
My life or my child’s?
Was that really the only reason Sephy was still carrying it? Because of misplaced guilt over me? I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t know what to believe.
My life. Or my child’s?
‘Is it just the thought of Sephy and I having a child together that you can’t stand, or is it all mixed-race children in general?’ I asked.
‘We’re not here to discuss my feelings.’ Kamal waved aside my words like he was swotting flies. ‘What’s your answer?’
My life? Or my baby’s?
Oh Sephy, what should I do? What would you do?
‘I need to think about it.’
‘I want your answer here and now,’ Kamal demanded.
I stood up slowly.
‘Well?’ he prompted, impatiently.
Time to choose. A choice to live with or die with. I looked Kamal Hadley straight in the eye – and told him my decision. I knew it would damn me to hell, but I knew it was the right one.
one hundred and fifteen.
Sephy
Dad barged into my room without even knocking on the door first. It was very late, almost midnight, but I wasn’t the least bit sleepy. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had a good night’s sleep. I sat at my table, writing in my diary when Dad came in. I shut the book and swivelled round in my chair. Dad stopped in the middle of the room. We regarded each other. We hadn’t exchanged a word since he’d slapped me. Dad sat down on the corner of my bed, suddenly looking very weary.
‘I’m not going to beat about the bush, Persephone,’ he told me. ‘Callum McGregor is going to hang for what he did to you.’
I swallowed hard but still didn’t speak.
‘And you’re the only one who can stop it,’ Dad continued.
Every cell in my body was put on full alert at Dad’s words. I sat very still and watchful, waiting for him to carry on.
‘It’s within my power to ensure that he doesn’t hang. I’ll make sure he only goes to prison. He’ll get a long sentence but at least he’ll be alive.’
And where there’s life . . . there’s a price. I kept my mouth shut, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
‘And all you have to do is agree to have an abortion,’ said Dad.
Like all I had to do was agree to eat my greens or go to bed early – that’s what he made it sound like.
‘Why?’ I whispered.
‘Why!’ The incredulous word exploded from Dad’s mouth. ‘Because
